


Uncle Sam

by LoriLane33



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Sam Winchester is the best friend, this is about as angsty as I get
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-03
Updated: 2019-06-03
Packaged: 2020-04-07 01:12:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19074463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoriLane33/pseuds/LoriLane33
Summary: You are doing dishes with your friend Sam, and things get a little sad.





	Uncle Sam

You stand at your kitchen sink, elbow deep in dishwater working to get the plates from dinner clean. Scrubbing at a particularly tough spot, you get a little too intense and end up splashing water over the edge of the sink, soaking the front of your shirt.

‘Just great,’ you think to yourself as you sigh in defeat, ‘at least I’m about to do laundry anyway.’

Taking a moment to assess the damage to your shirt you run over the material, a sad smile finding its way to your lips as your hand moves with the swell of your ever-growing stomach. Before you can head down memory lane, Sam walks up and gently nudges you, with a stern look on his face.

“Y/n, what have I told you about working yourself like this? The last thing you should be doing right now is standing here at the sink washing dishes like it’s your job. It can’t be good for the baby,” Sam was your brother-in-law, and damn it if he didn’t take his job as your brother very seriously. Your sad smile turns into an exasperated one when you roll your eyes at him.

“I think I’m fine, Sam. Pretty sure washing dishes isn’t rocket science,” you quip as you grab a towel to start drying your shirt.

“Y/n… come on. You know that standing for that long isn’t a good idea.”

“And once again. I’m fine, Sam. I’ll let you know if I get tired,” you are starting to get annoyed by him, always bugging you about straining yourself when completing the simplest of tasks.

“Y/n, please. Just.. go relax or something.”

“But-” Sam’s voice starts to rise as he cut you off to begin again. He isn’t yelling, but he for sure isn’t talking in an inside voice.

“You’re eight months pregnant, Y/n. You’re carrying a precious child inside of you, one that needs to be loved and taken care of to the best of our abilities. And I’ll be damned if I’m going to let you be dumb about it because that’s the last thing Dean would have wanted. If he were still here, then he wouldn’t let you lift a finger; but he’s not here now so it’s _my_ job!!”

As Sam’s last words echo, there’s a weight, a silence, a truth that settles between the two of you. It’s thick and suffocating like molasses and before you know it tears are forming in your eyes as flashes of your life with your dead husband flood your mind. Flashes of what your life should be are present as well. With tears flowing down your cheeks now, you look up at Sam to see his eyes wide and mouth slack, pleading in a silent apology. But knowing Sam, he’s not silent for long.

“Y/n, I- I’m so-,” he sighs in defeat as he realizes what he’s said, “I’m so sorry, Y/n,” He reaches his hands towards you and pulls you into his chest, “I shouldn’t have said that, and I’m so very sorry. I just- I know that he would never let anything happen to you because he loved you so damn much, Y/n. You guys were on your way to being parents when he died, and I know that as your brother-in-law I need to make sure nothing happens to you, even if it’s something as simple as washing dishes.”

“I just m-miss him so much, Sammy. I don’t know if I can’t do this w-without him,” you lean into his embrace as you sob into his chest, “he was my husband, he loved me, and now he’s gone, Sam.”

For the next few minutes, the only sounds that can be heard are the sounds of your broken hearts, mourning the loss of Dean.

Your arms finally go around his waist, hugging him back as the two of you stand there in silence, relishing in the support of one another. Finally, after what seems like forever, the two of you pull away with tears in your eyes, ready to talk again.

With a final sigh, you smile up at your brother, “thanks for loving me, Sam. I know that I can be difficult and hard-headed, and I also know that it drives you nuts. But you’re just being my brother and trying to keep everything as smooth as possible for Bobby Dean and me.”

With a smile, Sam responds, “Y/n, as stubborn as you are, I know that Dean fell in love with that part of you along with everything else. And that’s why the two of you have a baby on the way. He wouldn’t have had it any other way,” Sam places a brotherly kiss to your temple and continues, “Okay. Now that our emotions are out of the way, how about I make a deal with you, Mrs. Hard-Headed? How about… we finish the dishes together so we can finish them twice as fast? That way we can get back to the couch and that One Tree Hill marathon twice as fast?”

Your eyes light up at the mention of your new favorite binging show on Netflix, “Sounds like a plan, Sam!”

The two of you then turn back to the sink and thrust your arms into the warm water to grab dishes and start scrubbing. Silence has once again settled between the two of you, but this time it’s not sad or suffocating. It’s a comfortable silence between a brother and a sister, two friends sharing the load. After a few minutes, Sam can’t stay silent anymore and soon you hear him start humming a familiar tune. 

 

“Sam, are you hu- hey!” your hand flies to your stomach as you feel a sharp discomfort. With wide eyes, you realize that Bobby is kicking. “I think- ow!” Another kick. Because of your discomfort, Sam has now stopped humming, trying to figure out what’s wrong.

Sam’s drying off his hands at this point, looking at you with eyes clouded over with worry, “Y/n, are you okay? What’s wrong?! Do we need to go to the hospital??”

As soon as Sam had stopped though, Bobby quits his kicking; apparently, he likes Uncle Sammy’s humming.

With a giggle, you grab Sam’s arm to calm him down, “No Sam, I’m fine. Your nephew is just really into The Beatles apparently. He was kicking along to you humming ‘Hey Jude’ a second ago.”

Sam’s features suddenly soften as he processes what you just said. “Are you kidding me? Little Bobby is already liking ‘Hey Jude’? Wow, I guess he really is Dean’s boy then, huh? That’s amazing, Y/n. Can I feel?”

He goes to lay a hand on your stomach when you say with a smile, “I would say yes, but since you stopped humming, Bobby’s stopped kicking.”

He grins wide enough that his dimples are showing, “well then, I might just have to fix that.” Firmly placing a hand on your stomach now he starts back up, actually softly singing the words this time.

_Hey Jude, don’t make it bad_

_Take a sad song and make it better_

_Remember to let her into your heart_

_Then you can start to make it better._

Suddenly, you feel Bobby start to kick again and Sam looks up at you with his biggest smile yet, his eyes glassy with tears. Bobby lets loose another couple of good kicks, and you place your hand over Sam’s as a tear quietly slips down his cheek.

_Hey Jude, don’t be afraid_

_You were made to go out and get her_

_The minute you let her under your skin_

_Then you begin to make it better._


End file.
